"Ah!!"
A roar suddenly erupted, and an expanding blast wave exploded in what appeared to be a flimsy cell.
I, Pikachu Catcher, was startled and fell back.
However, the expected damage did not occur—the seemingly fragile cell had successfully blocked the attack, and the storm broke out in the inner space, activating the Magic Circle.
Invisible chains bound the roaring sound until it showed signs of weariness, struggling to breathe heavily.
"A foreigner?" A hoarse voice rose from the adjacent cell.
The Undead immediately turned to look, seeing a man with fiery red hair. His long hair cascaded over him, his demeanor calm, as if not imprisoned but standing on a victorious battlefield, calmly experiencing a victory that was surely his.
[Son of Ronan · Almet Flame Wing, Level 26]
"Haven't seen me before? Once a child blessed by the gods, now forsaken as the world crumbles," continued Almet Flame Wing, his hoarse voice speaking, "All that awaits us here is to die alone."
